Coda
by fayzalmoonbeam
Summary: (The Lost Boys) Michael makes the ultimate choice, and he and David reach an agreement of sorts. FINISHED 51204. Feedback is appreciated :)
1. Default Chapter

Coda

Pairing: Michael/David

Rating: R/15 at the moment!

Summary and disclaimer: Sorry about some of the screwy formatting on margins on this one-I can't quite get it sorted out! The Lost Boys will always be owned by Warner Bros and Joel Schumacher and no-one could have played David like Kiefer. This is a continuation of the movie, based on the popular theory that horns are not the same as wood. It plays with the idea that David and Michael were lovers during the movie and it's not very flattering about Star (I promise to even the score with a Star/Michael fic at some point!!). Much angst, some allusions to sex and very little plot-so what's new?!

The waning sun dipped lower on the darkening horizon. Michael had left the house a few hours ago, unable to cope with any more of his mother's enforcedly cheerful tidying up. As if it really mattered. The house, to all intents and purposes, was beyond repair. The whole family had spent the previous night (what was left of it) in the Santa Carla Motel, and they had returned in the cold light of day to the battered heap of wood and rubble that was Grandpa's house. It was no use. The house was ruined. It was now only a matter of time before his mother gave up and they would have to formulate a plan B for their lives. The bodies of the vampires were gone, no one knew where. It was as if they'd turned to dust and scattered themselves in some perverse memorial across the landscape. Even _his _body had gone. The strange thing was, where there were small piles of grey dust as markers for where the other Lost Boys had died, there was no such evidence for David. Nothing at all remained to show the vampire had even existed.

Michael blinked at the memory of _him. _Knowing he was gone did not make dealing with the memory any easier. He could still hear _his _voice; still feel the touch of _his_ hands during his initiation; still smell the musky, aroused scent of vampire attraction. Michael may well have returned to being mortal, but he was finding it difficult to embrace his human side as easily as he had the vampire life.

"David…" he whispered, and just as quietly the warm breeze took his words away. He shivered, in spite of the humidity. His ears strained for the answering call, the seductive purr of his vampire lover; but the sound was absent from the breeze that caressed the backs of his arms and the nape of his neck. What he wouldn't give to hear that rasping, scratching voice, as textured as antique silk. David was gone; he had to accept that and move on. And yet…Michael still felt his presence, lingering like the scent of expensive aftershave on a ruffled pillow. It was as if the town of Santa Carla hadn't quite purged herself of the violent delights of David, childe of Max and sire of Michael and the other Boys. His essence still pervaded the night like some obscene perfume; it was as if Santa Carla, in her lust for pain and destruction, craved David just as Michael did.

Michael blinked away the sudden tears that threatened to spill from his tired eyes. He knew this wanting, this yearning was all wrong. He had regained his mortality when Max and the Boys had been vanquished; he should be grateful for that. He tried, for a moment, to cling on to the notion that his humanity was a gift, that his resurrection into the world of sunlight and the living was a blessing that he neither deserved nor had a right to expect. But it wasn't enough to keep the anguished moan from escaping his lips. He didn't want his second chance in the land of the living. He only wanted the delicious, pleasurable pain of David's cool body; and the promise of an eternity of sensual delights in the realm of the undead.

"Come back to me," Michael whispered brokenly. "David, I'm so sorry…Please, come back," He bowed his head to hide his tears, knowing that he should return to Star and his family and try to forget his obsession. In spite of that knowledge, for just one moment, he gave in to the grief that cut him to shreds and he felt the pain, and the memory of David wash over him. The way David had, on the night he was initiated, slung his arm around him by the railway bridge. The sensation of David's breath on his face, far too close to his lips, when he'd pulled him closer and then teased him with his own immortality by jumping from the bridge. The gestures could have been interpreted as merely the horseplay of two young men, as a metaphor for the towel-slapping locker room jollity of teammates, but Michael had felt the jolt in his groin when David had pulled him close. He knew then that this was no jocular teasing. Indeed, it had led to an encounter that had shocked Michael in its unfamiliarity, but awakened a part of him that he hadn't known existed.

His thoughts drifted to the all-too-brief night that he had spent with David in the antique four-poster bed in the subterranean hotel, the memory mocking his conscious mind, reminding him bitterly of what he had lost. He had, if the truth were acknowledged, spent two nights in the same bed, but the first encounter was by far the more memorable. The second, with Star, had been a vain attempt to deny what he felt, both for David and for his newly awakened bloodlust; a tame coupling that did little to relieve either sensation. In contrast, every part of his body remembered David's touch; the silken caress of the vampire's long hair against his own bare skin; the throbbing arousal that had awoken inside him from the moment their lips touched; the trembling ecstasy of orgasm at David's hands. He was branded by the encounter, and the merest memory of it seemed to evoke the physical sensations, the pain of David's fingernails digging into his shoulders, the voluptuous agony of David's violation of his body and the heated kisses that felt so at odds with the coolness of the vampire's flesh. He had walked the path between life and unlife that night, and it had shown him which was more preferable.

Of course, Michael reflected, his duty had been to the living; to his mother, his brother and his grandfather. The moral choice had to be made, and he had sworn allegiance to the mortals in his life. The immortals, all of them, had to be eradicated, whatever the physical and emotional cost. Bitterly he reflected on that choice. His humanity decreed that he had made the right decision. He had thrown himself in with the side that believed, as the Froggs had put it, in "Truth, Justice and the American Way." His heart, on the other hand, mourned the decision intensely. The charade of his fight with David, when he had felt the vampire trembling with rage and desire was, to his mind, unforgivable. As David lay dying, impaled on one of his grandfather's less ambitious taxidermy projects, it had taken all of Michael's self control to stop himself from screaming in pain and fury. Seeing the light dying from David's eyes had been enough for Michael to want to reject his humanity for good. In the moments that followed, and during his return to mortality when that bastard Max had rotted away, Michael's bereavement began.

Overwhelmed by his own memories, it seemed hours later when Michael raised his head once more. Velvet night had fallen now, and the air was cooler. Michael shivered and slowly stood from the large rock where he had been seated. Knowing he could delay his return to the family no longer, he began to walk slowly back down the beach. He kept his eyes fixed on the liquid darkness of the sea as he drew closer to the light and life of the fairground. The vampire strength and bloodlust had left Michael the moment that Max's unlife had been ended, but the heightened awareness of people around him had remained, and Michael couldn't deal with the amount of heaving humanity that had massed at the fair. He stopped once more by the water's edge and looked back to where he had been. A movement caught his eye, a darker shade of black in the darkness of the late evening. Someone, or something, was crouched by the very rocks where he had spent the past few hours. Blinking, Michael tried to clear his vision. He knew it was probably an animal, or one of the tramps that frequently slept on the beach, cushioned somewhat by the still warm sand, but he just wanted to be sure. He took a step closer to the rocks, and as he did so, he perceived what his tired mind told him was a wisp of white-blond hair.

"No," Michael whispered. "It's not you. It can't be you…" He shivered, but this time it wasn't the cool evening air that was to blame. "David…" he murmured, desperately hoping, the pain of anticipation running him through. And then, the answer came.

"Michael…"

It was faint, barely audible, but Michael knew he'd have heard that voice above a hurricane. It was the same voice that had seduced him with the promise of an immortal life and the vows of a sensual union.

"Michael…"

Rushing forwards, still unable to comprehend the whisper of his name on the late night air, Michael sprinted back to the rocks, back to the comfortable darkness.

"Michael…"

There, slumped awkwardly against the large stones, was the person that Michael had craved, the lover whose loss he felt so keenly. Beloved. Sire. David.


	2. Motif

Chapter 2-Motif

"How is this possible?" Michael murmured between hungered kisses. The moment he realised that it was David, back from the dead, lying prone against the cooling rocks on the beach, his heart had lurched with a combination of ecstasy and wonder. Now, as he feverishly kissed the cool lips of the vampire he thought he'd lost, he was almost overwhelmed once more by his emotions. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so he settled for neither and just kissed.

"Since when did animal horns kill vampires?" David responded when they finally broke apart. His hands gripped Michael's muscled arms as if he was a sailor clinging to driftwood in a shipwreck. In a sense, this was not too ridiculous an analogy. He was still weak, vulnerable, and he knew that it would take him a long time to recover. And yet…that healing would be so much quicker if he had some sustenance.

"You're still hurt, aren't you?" Michael spoke when he had time to draw breath. He looked down David's body. He noted that the vampire was dressed in the same dark clothes, and that the front of his black shirt was stained with what Michael assumed was a combination of his own, and David's blood. As he pulled away from David, David lurched forward and Michael instinctively reached out and caught him.

"I have to get you somewhere safe," he said firmly, cradling David closer to him.

"Take me to the hotel," David whispered. "There are things there."

Shouldering most of David's weight, Michael carried the weakened vampire the half-mile down the beach to the old hotel. David's body felt uncharacteristically light, and Michael's stomach twisted with worry. He couldn't be so close to David once more only to lose him again. The panic that he would have to see his lover die a second time made Michael stride more quickly to get to the earthquake-shaken building.

When they reached the hotel, Michael, as gently as he could, laid David down onto the antique four-poster bed. The combination of cave wall and sculpted brickwork seemed even more surreal now that David and Michael were the sole residents. Michael realised, with a stab of guilt and sorrow that David might not even be aware, or choose to remember that his Boys had been destroyed. Pushing that thought to one side for a moment, he concentrated on getting David as comfortable as he could. In response, the vampire opened his eyes and smiled weakly.

"Thank you, angel," he said softly. He raised a pale, almost translucent hand and caressed Michael's cheek. His touch was cool and quivering, and Michael instinctively clasped his own hand over David's, hoping to bring some small warmth back into it.

"What can I do?" Michael murmured, beginning to shiver at David's cold touch. _You've done enough already,_ his inner voice told him. _It's all your fault he's like this._

David lay silent, his eyes closed once more. Time was short. If Michael had any hope of restoring David's strength, whatever he had to do, he must do it quickly, or David would well and truly be lost to him. Realisation dawned on Michael slowly, but in time. Silently, he lay down on the bed next to David. His heart, so newly reverted to human, beat furiously within his chest, pumping his blood, the one thing that could give David new life, and reminded him of his own vulnerability.

David turned to face Michael on the bed. "What…are you doing." He asked, his voice barely a whisper. His eyes flickered to the vein in Michael's neck, and in that brief moment a multitude of emotions flitted over his pale, wanton face. Desire; hunger; pain; curiosity; all were present in his tired eyes.

"You know," Michael replied. He took off his white t-shirt and moved closer to David. The vampire did not resist as Michael undressed him, dropping his coat and t-shirt to the floor beside the bed. Semi-naked and aroused, in spite of his fear of what he was about to do, Michael ran his hand over David's healing chest wound. The drying blood lay in a tantalising trail from David's muscular chest to the top of his jeans, and Michael fought the sudden urge to lick his way down the vampire's torso. It was not his time to feed.

"Michael…" Quieter than a whisper, David murmured an almost-protest. Almost.

"Do it, David," Michael said gently. "You know you have to." He placed a hand on the nape of David's neck and eased the vampire forward as if to embrace him. He heard David moan, half in pain, half in arousal as their skin touched. The vampire dipped his head and rested his cool mouth for a moment against the pulse in Michael's neck. Michael shivered at the touch of the other man's lips, reminded of the last time that David took his blood. The first time, it had been a battle of wills between two men, equally matched and just as arrogant. Michael had allowed David to feed from him and then bed him, but not without showing David that the decision to be taken was very much his own. Now, Michael had made the decision once more, but it was more than the coming together of two bodies that was at stake. He gasped as the sensation of David's lips gave way to the sharp pinpricks of the vampire's fangs sinking into the vulnerable flesh of his neck.

The feeling was an exquisite blend of pain and pleasure. The drawing sensation of David imbibing his blood made him feel more alive than he had felt since his initiation. The silken caress of David's long hair against his bare skin combined with the sensuality of the vampire's feeding was enough to send Michael into paroxysms of desire and need. He moaned louder as David continued to feed, pulling the vampire closer to him until they were chest to chest. He began to stroke David's hair in time to the beating of his own heart, revelling in the simple sensuality of the act as David fed. The dizzying feeling of bloodletting imprinted on Michael's senses until he was compelled to close his eyes to ease the black spots dancing in front of him and the pulse that was beating wildly in his ears.

David sensed Michael was close to unconsciousness and although his greater instinct told him to keep taking the younger man's blood, with a moan he drew away. The effect of the blood was instant, and now it was he who caught the other man as Michael slumped forward into his arms. He eased the two of them down into a more comfortable position, wrapped his arm protectively around Michael and fell soundly asleep.

On to Chapter 3 Return to Fayza's fanfic page.


	3. Entr'acte

Chapter 3- Entr'acte

They awoke some time later to the mottled daylight that peered ineffectually through the mouth of the cave. Not close enough to do David any harm; it nonetheless cast a gentle glow over the bedclothes. Michael stirred first and, disoriented for a moment, looked wildly around before remembering where he was, and why he was there. He turned to face David, who was still sleeping, and stared at the vampire's face. Softened by sleep, he looked like the innocent he had seemed to be on the night Michael thought he'd died. He wanted nothing more than to lie beside David for always like this. A small voice in the back of his mind told him that it was wrong to harbour these thoughts; David was, after all, a killer. Indeed, he had tried to kill everyone whom Michael had ever loved. But there was something about the quiet vulnerability of David's face in sleep that called to Michael. This combined with the sheer power of the vampire's charisma and the connection that he had felt with David during the bloodletting was enough to make Michael want to turn from his mortal life and embrace the darkness that David could offer.

As if David sensed the conflict of Michael's thoughts, his eyes opened sleepily. In the split second before the mask of his more sardonic smirk was in place, Michael saw the gentlest flicker of a genuine smile cross his features. David was still pale, but Michael could sense the power that the vampire had wielded before was returning to him. He felt the prickly heat of David's presence burning across his skin. It reminded him that, if he was considering any thoughts of superiority, just because he had happened to supply the blood that had healed David, then he had better reconsider them. And fast.

"Still here." It was a statement, not a question. Michael nodded, not trusting himself to reply.

"Coming back for more, after all we've been through together?" This time the sarcasm in David's tone was clearer. The grin widened. "You know I could kill you right now and not think any more of it." Again, this brokered no reply.

Michael shifted around on the bed, so that he sat upright. For a moment, he towered over David, who had slung an arm casually behind his head. The chest wound that had appeared so vivid hours before had already virtually healed, so that only the slightest of scars was left. Even that would be gone in a few hours. David's demeanour clearly gave the impression that he considered Michael to be about as much of a threat as the thick spiders webs that still hung down from the roof of the cave. Michael knew he was no match for the vampire when David was at full strength, but the way David was just casually dismissing him was all the provocation Michael needed. He leaned over the vampire, pulling David's arm out from behind his head and pinning David to the mattress.

"Let's get one thing perfectly clear, Beloved," Michael hissed. "I am here of my own free will this time, and none of your creature of the night bullshit is going to cut it from now on." He increased the pressure on David's wrists, deep down knowing that the element of surprise was all he had, and if David had really wanted to he could have easily thrown him across the cave. "So why don't you lose the bad ass posturing and we'll talk."

David at least had the good grace to look surprised at Michael's sudden movement. He considered the other man for a moment. Michael's naked torso was tanned and muscular. His arms, still covered in cuts and bruises from two nights ago, were nonetheless powerful. He could feel Michael's long thighs gripping his own and for a moment remembered just how exquisite the sensation of his own naked skin against Michael's had been. "Who needs to talk?" David replied huskily, and this time it was a question. But not one that Michael needed to answer.

Michael brought his lips down to David's once more. The kiss deepened until he was so overwhelmed he released David's trapped wrists. The feeling of David's long fingers and cool hands caressing his exposed back was enough to make him push closer to David's prone body. He could feel his own arousal as he moved against David's own hardness, and it wasn't long before the final pieces of clothing they both wore were thrown aside.

Their coupling, much like before, was a battle for supremacy, although both of them knew that David was the stronger physically. This was not about physical dominance, but about who had ownership of the other's soul. Michael relished with new abandon the feeling of David's cool body against his. He revelled in the renewed abandonment of being with the other man, and as David moved position to take him, he felt a savage surge of lust that made him take control.

"No," he said huskily as David moved. "This time, it's my turn." He pushed David back on the bed and, with confidence born of desire he made sure that David knew he was in command. As Michael thrust and came hard, he felt David reach his own peak, and for a moment wondered if David had ever been on the receiving end of this particular brand of intimacy. Judging by his reaction, he assumed not; or if he had, it had been a long time.

On to Chapter 4 Return to Fayza's fanfic page.


	4. Cadenza

Chapter 4-Cadenza

Author's note: Well, this is turning into an epic! I hadn't anticipated it lasting this long, and I'm still figuring out a way to end it, but here's the latest helping. There won't be much more after this, I promise! I know I've strayed from canon a bit here in the manner of Michael's turning, but I think it's justified as he's been turned once before, so this time I felt he needed a little extra to be turned, hence David taking his blood rather than the "before you make your first kill" thing. Hope this doesn't ruffle too many feathers!

They lay entwined for a long time after their passion had ceased. David, subdued but still exuding the power that reminded Michael of a tiger at rest; Michael, calmer, more relaxed but still questioning. It was as the sun was waning once more, and the light from the cave mouth had turned from bright yellow to a warm orange glow, that Michael chose to speak.

"Turn me," he whispered, deep into the burgeoning night. "Make me yours again." He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at the blonde vampire. Leaning forwards, he kissed David hard on the mouth. It was a reminder of what they had shared that day.

When they broke apart, David considered the younger man who lay by his side for a long time before he spoke. "You don't know what you're asking," he rasped. "This is not some pick and choose Bela Lugosi film, Michael; this is real. It's blood, shit, sweat, fever, craving, killing. Are you sure you can handle the reality of being a bloodsucker?" His eyes were simultaneously mocking and hungry.

Michael looked back at David, his gaze challenging the vampire to argue further. But before David could continue his line of argument, Michael spoke. "I've made peace with the human world," he began. "Everyone I've ever loved is moving on, forgetting that night. I can't. The reason I can't do what my whole family is managing to do is because I can't fool myself." He paused, and searched David's face. As if he sensed that Michael was looking for answers, David kept his features carefully controlled, a mordant mask. Drawing breath, Michael went on. "I loved the feeling of power you gave me when you offered me your blood. I loved the way your life force fought with mine when we went to bed together. You half-turned me, then fucked me and made me want more. And I do want more, David. I can't be this son, this brother that the family wants. I want to feel the power, and the pain of being a vampire. And this time, I want it to last."

David remained silent throughout Michael's speech. His face gave nothing away of the feelings, if any, he felt at Michael's words. He looked deep into Michael's eyes, willing the words that Michael had spoken to be true. And indeed, it appeared that they were.

"You're asking to give up the daylight and abandon everything you know for a lifetime of darkness and blood," he finally, quietly said. Michael leaned closer to him, straining to hear his words. The vampire continued. "No-one asks to be taken, Michael. We are turned because our sires desire it. Children of the night have very little idea what it is they are committing themselves to until it's too late. Even Star had no full realisation of what the vampire life was. She was deluded into thinking we would accept her, that she would have a place if she took my blood; and yet, ultimately, her body and her soul rejected what I offered her. How can I be sure you won't just do the same?" For a fleeting moment, David's careful mask faltered and he looked vulnerable. "I didn't ask to be taken, Michael. Max took me. He fucked me as hard as he could and he took me without warning. It was bitter, painful and tawdry. And yes, I devour the night now as I devour those who sacrifice themselves to my hunger. I relish the pain and the blood and the foreplay that goes with it. It is my way of life and I don't know how to live any other. But given the choice…"

The last sentence hung in the air, and Michael knew better than to get David to answer it. He gently brushed his warm hand against David's pale cheek and brought his eyes level with his own once more. "I want you, David," he began. "Not just now, but for always. I fooled myself when I fought back against the taste of your blood and the feelings it awakened in me. I don't belong in that world anymore. Yes, if I hadn't been half-turned by you and I hadn't felt the power of what being a vampire means, then I would have, no doubt, lived a perfectly fine life and raised a perfectly good family of my own. But that's over now. That life isn't possible any more. And I wouldn't want it, even if it were. We can rule the night together; we can make this work. But only if you turn me."

David laughed then, a harsh, prickly sound without humour. "Michael Emerson," he mimicked "Come on down!" He looked away, and then back at Michael, a knowing glance in his eyes. "Prove that you can do this," he said softly. "Kill them all." David the player was back.

Michael's eyes widened momentarily but he was in control. "No David," he replied calmly. "That's not part of the game. If you want me, then you can take me, but my family stays alive."

"You think you're so ready?" David spat back angrily. "You really think that you can become one of the undead without proving you can make that sacrifice? You're wasting my time!" He pulled away from Michael and started to pull on his black jeans.

"David," Michael's voice was low, his tone deathly calm. "You're not taking my family. They will live with the pain of losing me, and that is enough guilt for me to carry. Watching them grow old and die as I live on is punishment enough. I will not kill them to prove some macho point to you."

"And I suppose you'll drink from rats and the blood bank to stay alive as well, will you?" David paced angrily, impatiently brushing his hair away from his eyes.

"I never said I wouldn't feed," Michael replied. "But I will not murder my mother and my brother just to satisfy some primal urge for revenge."

"But don't you see?" David countered, still angry. "Primal is what we are. We are the top of the food chain on this world, and we function on revenge, and guilt and pain."

"We?" Michael said softly. "Then you'll turn me?"

Pause.

David looked back at Michael from where he stood. The pacing had ceased. Michael knew David well enough to decipher the emotions that flitted, in a matter of seconds over his face. He sensed, and saw, the vampire's fear, anger, lust, and, most telling of all, hope. Finally, David spoke. His voice was low, steely, but with an undercurrent of feline silk.

"If you want this, if you truly want this, then yes, I will turn you. But once you are turned, you become the darkness, Michael. You live by its rules, abide by its customs and religion. That night we attacked the Surf Nazis on the beach, the night you fought back against the darkness, that is what you must face if you become a vampire. Are you sure you want that?" David's eyes held the other man's gaze for a moment, as if he was willing Michael to take back his previous words. He assumed the stillness that only the undead can master, watching, waiting for Michael's response.

Michael remained silent. He thought he had moved on from his own mortality, but David's soft voice, harsh but with the barest trace of compassion touched his humanity and made him hesitate. Rising from where he had been sat on the bed, he walked over to where David stood. Tenderly, he brought his fingertips to the nape of David's neck, caressing his cool flesh in a gesture of comfort. Eventually he spoke.

"Beloved," Michael murmured, drawing David closer so that their foreheads touched. "I know what I want, and you are the only one who can give it to me. So make me yours, now, for always."

The moment seemed to last an eternity. The two men stood together, caught up in the intimacy of touch. David took hold of Michael's shoulders and pulled him closer. As they embraced, David whispered into Michael's ear, making the other man shudder in anticipation.

"If you truly want this, Angel, then it will be. But this time, you must feed directly from me to turn yourself fully."

"I'll do anything," Michael replied "If it means I can become what you are."

Wordlessly, David led Michael back to the bed. The two men stood for a moment, relishing the timeless hush that descended like threads of gossamer over the chamber. David looked deeply into Michael's eyes not for reassurance but as an act of dominance. He, as sire was making sure that his mark would be clear, and desired. "You are mine, Angel," he said softly as his cool fingertips traced the two marks on Michael's neck. "This time, when I feed from you, there's no going back."

"Your blood will run through my veins again," Michael replied huskily. "And this time it will stay there." He bared his neck to David a little more, relishing the hungry look in his lover's eyes. He knew that the next time he saw him, he would see in greater colour and detail. The vampire dipped his head and with a precision that was truly otherworldly, he opened up the two puncture wounds once more.

Michael gasped as the pain mingled with the seductive pleasure of bloodletting. He knew he should have felt afraid, but he instead felt a liberation that he had only sensed the last time he had taken David's blood. He fought to stay conscious as David took more blood from him, knowing that to be truly turned he needed to drink from David. His previous turning had only been dependent on his making a random kill; this time it had to be David's blood he drank, and David who killed him, and brought him back. Desperate for air, he could feel his heart pounding, trying to claw back the blood that his body so urgently needed, but before long his heart began to give up. He was barely conscious when he felt and tasted the dull, coppery slickness of David's blood slake his lips and throat, and he knew that when he awoke it would be to a different world.

Ending coming soon! Return to Fayza's fanfic page.


	5. Da Capo

Da Capo

A/N: So, this is it-the home stretch of a fic that has taken me the best part of a year, on and off. There is some closure, and the possibility of a little more to come, if I choose to explore the very obvious character development, but for now I'm going to call it a day on this one and start a new M/D story. I hope you enjoy it!

It seemed an eternity later that Michael finally opened his eyes. Groggily, as his lids rebelled against even the dim light of the cave, he became aware instantly of the hunger that was gnawing at his insides; a familiar sensation that took him back the first time that he'd been half-turned. These, however, were not the abstract stirrings of a slowly changing body; the sensations that Michael felt upon waking were sharp and painfully vibrant and signalled to him straight away that he was a changed man.

"David?" Michael croaked, slowly, painfully opening his eyes. Thankfully, it appeared to be evening, as Michael knew that even the hazy glow from the outside world through the mouth of the cave was enough to send him running for cover now. Turning over in the antique bed, Michael's gaze came to rest on his sire, who was sitting in an armchair by the bed.

"Angel," David murmured. He held Michael's gaze for a moment, and then swiftly sprang from the chair to sit on the bed next to the younger man.

"Help me," Michael said faintly. "David, help me, please." Michael was seized by a sudden pain in his stomach, and he doubled over on the bed.

"Stay here," David replied. Pausing only to stroke the damp hair from Michael's fevered brow, he was gone.

It seemed an eternity between the time that Michael felt David leave, and his eventual return. Seconds ticked by, devoid of all meaning except as a measure of the deepening pain within. Dimly, he realised that time, as he had known it before, had ceased all meaning. Michael closed his eyes and curled up on the bed, waiting for David to make the pain go away.

"Michael," the voice was soft, but with an undercurrent of nails over velvet.

"David?" Michael's lips were dry, his throat parched with the raw need for blood.

"Drink." It was a command. Opening his eyes slightly, Michael saw that he and David were no longer alone in the cave. Beside the vampire stood a young man, probably no more than eighteen years old, tall, lean and dressed in black.

"Who is he?" Michael croaked, in no mood for conversation.

"A willing volunteer," David replied. "You are too weak to kill a struggling meal-there are some who volunteer a little of their blood eagerly-for times when we ourselves can't catch our own sustenance."

The young man nervously shook his long dark hair from his eyes. As he did so, even in his weakened state Michael observed the two small puncture wounds in the boy's neck. This obviously wasn't the first time that the boy had "donated" blood.

"Jonathan, come here," David said. "This is Michael. He would appreciate a little nourishment." He drew the boy closer to him and wound his long, pale hands briefly around the boy's neck. "It would be so easy to turn you," he murmured to Jonathan, "but you resist me every time." In an odd, intimate gesture, he placed his lips against the boy's pale forehead. "For now, I suppose it's for the best."

As David brought Jonathan closer to the bed, Michael immediately sensed the boy's heartbeat increasing, and the pain inside him seemed to renew. A moan escaped his lips. Jonathan sat down close to Michael and waited. It took every ounce of strength in Michael's body to restrain himself from plunging his new fangs deep into the boy's neck there and then, and taking the last drop of blood from him.

"Take just a little," David warned. "You are still weak, and if you over feed you will feel a thousand times worse than you do now. Take your time. Jonathan is a willing volunteer." He remained standing, and Michael knew that David, quite aside from the necessity of getting Michael to feed, was becoming aroused at the prospect of the sight of what was about to happen. There was a hunger in his eyes that Michael recognised as the pleasure pain of eroticism.

Michael struggled to a seated position on the bed, and tucked his long legs under him. Reaching out, he caressed the side of Jonathan's neck with a cool hand. He was amazed at how hot the boy's skin felt to his fingertips. He heard his mind framing the question _are you sure you want to do this?_ But he didn't ask it out loud. The instinct to feed was so strong that he couldn't contemplate introducing any doubt into Jonathan's mind. He needed this, to make the gnawing pain go away.

"Take it slowly," David advised in a husky undertone. Michael knew that the scene on the bed was tantalising David almost as strongly as his own desire to feed. "For once, there is no need to kill. Jonathan is one of very few who are valuable to us."

"Don't worry, man," Jonathan replied. "I can take it." He brushed Michael's fingertips with his own as he pulled the thick curtain of dark hair away from his neck. "I'm all yours."

Michael needed no further invitation. The newly grown fangs that lurked beneath the surface of his gums began to break free, and suddenly his senses were even more aware of Jonathan's blood rushing through his veins. Pulling Jonathan around to face him, he felt the pulse point of the boy's neck jumping under his fingertips, and knew that he would soon be able to dull the pain inside. Moving his head slightly, he braced his teeth against the smooth, pale flesh of Jonathan's neck and in the split second before he began to feed, he marvelled at how delicate the boy's skin was. As he punctured Jonathan's neck, the warm, coppery taste of his blood trickled into Michael's mouth and down into his hungry throat. He began to feel the strength that the blood was giving him almost instantly. He didn't even realise that he was moaning out loud.

All too soon he felt David's hands prising him away from Jonathan. The boy was conscious but weakened by his encounter with Michael. The blood that Michael had taken from him had given Michael in instant strength, which he used to help David settle Jonathan back against the pillows. There was a small trail of blood drying on Jonathan's neck, and David, with a small wink to Michael, leaned over the boy and lapped it clean.

"I feel better," Michael said, his voice returning to normal. "But what's in it for him?"

"The illusion of immortality," David replied, his voice still husky, but this time with renewed desire. "And the protection of the boys, as they once were."

"What do we do with him now?" Michael said, sensing David's arousal.

David said nothing and merely smiled. He leaned over to where Jonathan lay. The boy had opened his eyes and was now looking at David and Michael.

"David and I have been well acquainted over the past year," Jonathan said, in a surprisingly strong voice. "We have, how do I put it, a good _working_ relationship." He reached out an idle hand to caress David's black clad thigh. "It seems to agree with us."

Michael realised that he should have been jealous, and had he still been human, he probably would have been. But this was different. _He_ was different. All he felt now was the familiar twist of lust.

"This working relationship," Michael said. "Is it an exclusive arrangement?"

"Not any more," David responded. "But then, things have changed around here." He glanced down at Jonathan's hand on his thigh, and then back up at the boy's face. Something unspoken passed between them. With a slight nod, Jonathan turned to face Michael and kissed the new vampire on the mouth.

"The final part of the arrangement," Jonathan muttered.

Michael felt himself harden as the younger man continued to kiss him, and in a tangle of limbs and bodies, he, David and Jonathan became one entity.


	6. Fine

Fine

And this is it...loose ends tied and closure reached...for the moment. My thanks to the lovely Starschild for inspiring me to be a little more prolific in my LB ficcage-I hope you like the ending of this one! Enjoy...

David and Michael spent many years together, the two remaining Lost Boys. Although Michael had made peace with the need to kill, he never quite developed the taste for violence that David had. Instead, he indulged his darker side when he and David were alone, preferring to run the risk of drinking from his dead lover. He found he had developed a taste for the blood of the undead, even though it left him with the vampire equivalent of a hangover.

Michael watched his family age; saw their sadness when they realised that he would no longer return to them. He was absent uncle to Sam's children, when he married at the age of twenty seven, and he shed his own tears at his grandfather's funeral ten years after that. He saw his mother meet and marry a man who truly could make her happy, and for that he was grateful. She never quite got over the sadness of her first-born son's disappearance, but over time she became more reconciled, it seemed, to it.

Even though it meant giving up his mortal life, Michael only once regretted his decision, and only then on a personal, selfish level. When Star finally met someone who would take proper care of her, someone who could give her the love and security she so desperately craved, he felt momentarily jealous. He wondered what would have happened if he had decided to move on with his life. As time passed, he realised that Star had found her own path, and the man she married was both respectful to and indulgent of her, the jealousy dimmed. Had he, himself married her, he would always be missing something. That something was the tie he had to David.

So they existed, together. Michael seemed to temper something in David, and David allowed Michael to indulge his own dark side. They never again reached the dizzy heights of David's domination of the Santa Carla boardwalk, but each found something in the other that was, to their minds, more satisfying. Not a happy ending, with restored humanity and wine and roses, but neither was it an eternity soaked in innocent blood. Put simply, it just _was._


End file.
